


Dear Diary

by orphan_account



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-16
Updated: 2006-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angelus has issues.  For Vee, who knows why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear Diary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vehemently](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vehemently/gifts).



Dear Diary:

It would be so much more satisfying to write this in blood but Soul-Boy here doesn't like to play with his food anymore. Actually, it would be so much more satisfying to have the use of my hand back, but then I wouldn't be wasting time brooding.

I can't believe I just used that word.

*

Dear Diary:

If I had realized that Soul-Boy would spend so much time in the Bat Cave (look, when a demon can't get to the ballet, Saturday morning cartoons have to do; now _there's_ a superhero who knows how to get in touch with his id) I would never have collected all that poetry. And now he reads _existentialists_.

At least he didn't pick up that blonde's tastes. If we were reading Sweet Valley High I would have to fling myself into the sunlight.

*

Dear Diary:

Listen. Darla may have been a bitch, but that does not mean you have to be hung up on a blonde _cop_. Besides, aren't you even going to _try_ to break her heart? Don't tell me you're afraid of perfect happiness with _her_.

I don't know why I bother sometimes.

*

Dear Diary:

Oh, yeah. Run _through the flames_ to _save_ the _Watcher_. Ex-Watcher. Rogue demon hunter. Wanker. Whatever. What are we, suicidal?

*

Dear Diary:

I take that back. He does look delicious. It should be his turn to wear the pink motorcycle helmet next.

*

Dear Diary:

It's not my fault we can't sing.

*

Dear Diary:

When I get out of here, I am going to spend a century removing the letters C, H, A, M, P, I, O, and N from the English language.

*

Dear Diary:

Fire!

We used fire!

Fire!

And a cigarette!

And fire!

_That'll_ show my girls.

Oh, yeah. Daddy's back.

Well, close enough.

*

Dear Diary:

Nope. Stupid redemption. You let _them_ hire _you_? What happened to your self-respect?

I think I'm going back into the Bat Cave. Wake me up if the apocalypse shows up.


End file.
